A Short Story: The Watch

Frank stared down at the small pocket watch, the silver body giving a offsetting contrast towards the rusted metal of the upturned bus he currently sat atop of, the warm metal feeling pleasant in his palm.

Tic-Toc 

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It was funny, in that sort of way that really wasn't all that funny at all, but he always hated having to watch the time. Megan always complained about him being late to this and that; not his fault, he never had anyway to keep track of the time, after all, So she bought him this little silver pocket watch.

Flipping the small watch over with his dirty, tired hands, he slowly read the engraving on the back, having long ago memorized it. “Be late again and your in the doghouse, Frank” and directly below that was “I love you”. Mouthing the words slowly, resisting the urge to sob or do any such act, he flipped it over, watching the small hands twitch across the body of the watch.

Tic-Toc 

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Looking past the watch, he noticed that one of 'them' had figured out that it's limbs weren't just for mauling, and had begun climbing up the side. He gave it a swift boot to the face, knocking it down into the clawing horde that surrounded this little scrap metal paradise, resting on top of a sea of concrete. 

Tic-Toc 

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Speaking outload, he chuckled and took a final look at the time, noting that it was just the right time he would have been out the door, off to pick her up from work. “Well, Meg. Looks Like I'm awfully late to meet you up there. Don't worry, I'll be there in a moment.”